Londoners in Los Angeles - T rated version
by GoodShipSherlollipop
Summary: Sherlock and his 7 months pregnant wife, Molly, enjoy romance and sight-seeing in a foreign country. Features my Sherlock and Molly characters from my Journey story. Sequel to my first one-shot, "The Interview." Also references my "What if we Met at Uni? Molly's Dream" story. Can be read without having read those, however. Romantic, flirty, sexy fun throughout.
1. Chapter 1

I am publishing this T rated version first as an acknowledgement of my more sensitive readers when it comes to love scenes, because I appreciate you as readers and want you to enjoy all my stories! I apologize in advance if my edits don't go far enough. Let me know.

Thanks VictorianLady79 for beta'ing.

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When Molly opened her eyes it took a few moments for her to remember where she was. Her husband's arms were curled around her but this was definitely not their bed in Baker Street. Oh yeah. She realized she was in a hotel room, and they were in America.

"Where are you going?" asked a deep voice sleepily, as she scrambled out of bed.

"My home away from home," she responded, making a dash for the loo.

As she returned from the bathroom Molly thought, not for the first time, how strange the toilets were. The water level was so high! At LAX, when she and Sherlock had arrived, the first thing Molly had needed to do was find a loo. Being almost seven months pregnant meant for frequent trips to the loo. Well actually, the frequent bladder urges had already started a couple months ago. Molly had quickly learned that if Sherlock was feeling amorous she had better duck to the loo first so that she didn't interrupt his intentions.

Thinking back to her experience in the LAX "bathroom" as the toilets were politely called here, **_what was with that anyway? A bathroom was supposed to have a tub or shower to be called that,_** Molly had been very disconcerted to discover that the water level in all the toilets was very high. She had immediately thought they were flooded. It was not a good thought, when she was really busting to use it. She had made a nervous inquiry of one lady who had come in with a child. The woman was obviously American herself, by her conversation with her daughter.

The woman had assured her that the water level was perfectly normal, so Molly had selected a stall with relief.

And then she had discovered the ridiculous gap at either side of the stall door. Really, a person could practically peer through the opening and watch while a woman did her business. On the whole, the pathologist decided she much preferred the privacy of the public toilets back home.

Furthermore, the darned automatic flush decided to activate while Molly was still on the toilet! There was definitely something to be said for flushing a toilet oneself! All this automated stuff, while it sounded good, was not very practical. Trying to wash her hands at the sink in the bathroom was also difficult. Ok, the automatic soap dispenser was nice, but the water would not turn on at one sink and Molly had tried another, frantically waving her hands in front of the sensor, wondering if the extent of her hand-washing was to be the hand soap. Fortunately, the water had finally activated.

Putting her hands down into that automatic hand dryer was nice though, even if it was a little more time consuming than ripping off a paper towel to dry them.

The whole process had taken so long that Sherlock had been frowning when she exited the toilet, er, bathroom.

"I thought you might have gotten lost in there," he said dryly.

"Didn't you go to the toilet too?"

"Yes, but it didn't take me a half hour," he'd responded.

"Well, Mr. internationally experienced traveler, I'm not used to all these fancy automatic flushing toilets that flush when you are still sitting on them, and automated water taps that don't turn on when you want them to," she had retorted a little crossly to her husband.

Sherlock had patted her hand as if she were a child. "It's okay, love. You'll get used to it."

"Don't patronize me, Sherlock," she had hissed, then had felt horrible when he looked shocked at her tone.

"I'm sorry darling. It's just a bit overwhelming. And the twelve hour plane ride didn't help."

"No, I'm sorry, Molly. Maybe coming here now was not the best plan. We had better get going though. We need to go through customs and all that fun stuff. I'm not really used to commercial flying myself. When Mycroft sent me on missions we always used private jets."

By the time the couple had made it through customs and picked up their luggage, then gotten to the hotel, Molly had been exhausted. It was only evening in LA, but the middle of the night in London. She had lost no time in crawling into the bed of the hotel room and falling asleep, much to Sherlock's disappointment. He was ready to go and explore this new city.

By the time Molly had woken, her husband had apparently decided he could use a few hours rest as well.

The next day, the couple had not ventured out of the hotel. With the interview on the late night talk show looming that night, Sherlock had been quite nervous. He had insisted on recounting every detail of the case that had earned him his international fame, sure that the talk show host would want to know every detail. Molly had been too tactful to tell him that these shows typically were more concerned with learning about their guests' private lives, rather than their work.

Well, everything had gone very well at the interview. The pathologist had actually had a lot of fun, and Sherlock had expressed his appreciation of her efforts during the interview in no uncertain terms once they had arrived back at the hotel.

Molly smiled at the remembrance of the way they had made love, even as she slid back into bed, scooting backwards so she was once again pressed up against her husband, who she suddenly realized had come fully awake - in more ways than one.

Sherlock's arm came around her from behind and his breath tickled her neck, even as he clasped a possessive hand over her breast.

"You took forever in that bathroom," he complained, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder.

"I was only gone for two minutes!" she exclaimed.

"Felt like longer, wife," he murmured, pressing more kisses along her shoulder, while his hand gently squeezed her breast.

"Sherlock, we didn't come to America to spend the whole time in our hotel room making love," she said, trying to remember exactly why they had come. He was an extremely distracting man.

Her husband moved against her sensuously, invitingly, even as his wandering hand drifted to caress her bulging belly. "It's still early, Molly, too early to go sightseeing. Kiss me."

She turned onto her back, feeling Sherlock's warm lips covering her own. He kissed her in the same way his body moved, sensuously, willing her mouth to open beneath his. Every kiss between them was electrifying, even nine months after their first proper kiss, when he had come to her three days after the Sherrinford incident and proposed. His lips still felt like heaven, making her melt into his embrace, stirring all her senses.

Sherlock always loved her so well, taking delight in thrilling her until their passion overtook them.

Sometime later, Sherlock moved to cradle Molly's head on his shoulder. He placed a tender kiss on her lips. "I know I've said this so many times, and it's probably getting mundane for you to hear it, but I just can't get enough of you, my lovely wife."

She reached up to caress his face. "I could never get tired of hearing that, my love. I hope you are still saying it twenty years from now."

"Sweetheart, as long as God gives us life on this earth, I will be saying it. You complete me. It's never about having sex either. In fact, as I told you when we were engaged, we would never have sex. We would only ever make love." He linked his fingers through hers. "For me, having sex means taking one's own pleasure, whereas making love is rejoicing in our love and our devotion. Maybe others don't think of it that way, but it's how I feel. Even when we are being naughty...like a certain someone taking her knickers off in a pub to tempt me a couple weeks ago…" Here Molly blushed, she had indeed been naughty that night. "It's still about making love with you, never sex. I love you with that agape love from the Bible, unconditionally."

Molly felt tears prick her eyes. "I know you do, darling, and I feel the same way about us making love, and I have that same agape love for you." Her husband said the most wonderful things to her. He was almost unrecognizable from the Sherlock of old. It didn't make him any less of a brilliant detective. It just added depth to his character. He cared about people and was no longer afraid to show it. Even Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson had been the surprised recipients of one of his jubilant hugs at times, when the sleuth was in a good mood.

"So," asked Sherlock, "shall we take a walk along the Hollywood Walk of Fame today?"

"That would be fun. But I'm feeling pretty hungry right now. Don't they have a breakfast buffet downstairs here?"

"Yep." Her husband did that cute pop of his "p."

"Well, seeing as the studio is paying for all our expenses here, we should take advantage of it, don't you think?"

"Yep." Oh he was so adorable. She pulled his head towards her for a quick kiss, then said, "Well, let's get dressed and go downstairs."

The pathologist got out of bed, leaving a pouting Sherlock behind.

"What?" she demanded.

"I thought we'd cuddle for awhile first."

"You were the one who suggested what we were doing today."

"I didn't mean right now!"

"We aren't going now. We are having breakfast first, now come on." She put her hands on her hips and glared at her husband, well, not a real glare. He was too cute for her to be really mad at his unwillingness to get up.

"Fine," he huffed.

Ten minutes later, the pair headed downstairs for a nice complimentary breakfast.

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 **Author's note:** The whole airport scene is pretty much a factual one from my own experiences when I first arrived in America from Australia. My personal favourite part was the image of Molly wildly waving her hands under the tap to get water out of it. Do you find yourself frustrated with those and the auto-flush toilets as well? I hope I made you laugh.

There is no angst in this story, it is pure romantic, sexy fluff and humour. If you want angst, there is plenty of that in my Uni story. I'd really like to know what resonates most with my readers for future stories. Do you enjoy the flirty, romantic stuff or the angsty stuff, or both?


	2. Hollywood Boulevard

**Special Author's note: This chapter contains a major spoiler for my "A Journey to Love and Faith" story in regards to John. If you would rather not read it now, I understand.**

 **Thanks VictorianLady79 for beta'ing.**

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Sherlock and Molly enjoyed their breakfast at the hotel.

Sherlock looked askance at his wife, as she filled her plate with pancakes, waffles, sausages, bacon and eggs. "Are you going to eat all that?" He himself had been content to take just one pancake, three slices of bacon and some scrambled eggs.

"What?" demanded Molly, as they made their way to an empty table. "I am eating for two, you know."

"Looks more like three, if you ask me," he said flippantly, earning a glare from his wife. "I know, I know," he said repentantly. "That was a Bit Not Good. I'm sorry."

He was finished with his breakfast first obviously, and watched as she ate her way through the whole plate full of food.

"I hope you don't get a tummy ache, sweetheart," he commented, as they rose from the table at last.

"I have not had any problems with my tummy since my morning sickness," she informed him in an affronted manner, "but I do need the loo before we head out on the town."

Sherlock made use of the opportunity to also use the toilets, a little put off by the complete lack of privacy at the urinal, although thankfully he had been the only one using it at the time.

When Molly exited the toilets, er, bathroom, she had an irritated expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"The stupid thing flushed before I got off the toilet again. I mean, yeah I'm seven months pregnant, and it takes me a bit longer to get up off of it, but really? I do not need to wipe up excess, disgusting toilet water from my bum!"

Sherlock hooted with laughter at that, then stopped when he saw the frown on his wife's face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know I shouldn't have laughed, but honestly, the image of you getting off the toilet and having the thing flush on you..." He grinned again, unable to help himself, and this time, Molly grinned as well.

"I suppose it is rather funny when you think of it. It's just not so funny to experience it."

"Well, my love, are you ready to go?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I'm ready," she responded.

They exited the hotel and went to a line of waiting taxis. The studio had supplied them with several vouchers for taxi rides, so here again there would be no expense.

They got out at Hollywood Boulevard and began to walk along it, inspecting the various stars. "Wow, there are so many," exclaimed Molly.

Sherlock fished a visitor's guide out of his pocket that he had procured from the hotel. "Apparently there are over 2,600 stars. You can apply for one if you have an extra $30,000 lying around. There's an application process."

"Well, that's a bit of a let-down. I just thought they handed them out to deserving people."

They walked on for a time. At one point, Molly commented, "I wonder who paid for Mickey Mouse's Star?"

Sherlock shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Hey," his wife exclaimed at another point, there's a star for Daniel Radcliffe!"

"Too bad there isn't one for the late Alan Rickman. Then he said, in imitation of Severus Snape, "Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four."

Molly gasped. "I had no idea you could do a perfect imitation of Snape! Yet another facet of Sherlock Holmes the public has no clue about."

Sherlock chuckled. "Keep it to yourself, sweetheart. That is a secret I would prefer you not share. I don't need people bugging me for impersonations in late night talk shows," he quipped. "It was bad enough they did a poll about my 'hotness.'"

"I told you it's your curly hair that women swoon over," Molly said, reaching up to ruffle said curls. "I still can't get over the fact that your coat got votes. I mean, yes that coat is perfectly elegant on you especially with the way you keep the collar up, but there's so much more to love about you."

He linked his fingers with hers. "As long as you think I'm hot, I don't care what anyone else thinks." To his surprise, she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it.

"You will always be hot to me, my love, even when we are old and grey. I love what is inside of you more than anything else."

They continued to walk, hand in hand, stopping at this star or that. Sherlock noticed some people glancing at them curiously, but nobody approached them. He assumed that, even if he was recognized, the people here were probably used to seeing celebrities. He was quite happy to just be a tourist.

After about two hours of wandering, including a stop for Molly to use another self-flushing toilet with better results this time, so she said, his wife was starting to show signs of fatigue.

"I think it's time we returned to the hotel," Sherlock stated firmly.

"Can we see the Hollywood sign first?" pleaded Molly.

"We'll just have the cabbie drive past it so we can see it out of the window. Maybe he can pull over somewhere so we can take a photo. What do you think?"

"Alright," she agreed, "My legs feel like they are going to drop off."

Sherlock frowned. "You should have told me before. You don't want to overdo things, otherwise you'll end up in bed for the rest of the week." Then he added with a roguish grin, "not that staying in bed with you would be a bad thing."

"Sherlock!" she chided. "Behave yourself!"

"I am," he insisted. "I haven't even tried to kiss you since we left our hotel suite."

She merely shook her head at him, as they walked towards a taxi stand.

Sherlock gave instructions to pass by the Hollywood sign from below, (just so they could see it and take a photo), then proceed on to their hotel.

By the time they returned to the hotel it was time for lunch, so the pair enjoyed another five-star dining experience before heading to their room.

"My feet hurt," complained Molly, as they made their way back upstairs to their suite.

"When we get inside Do you want a bath?"

Molly gave him a sideways glance. "Are you planning to join me? That bath we shared on Valentine's Day led to...other things and to be honest, I don't think I have the energy for that right now."

They entered their suite then and Sherlock felt a little sulky. Of course he wanted to share a nice, sensual bath with his wife. But she knew him too well. Shared baths or showers between them always, without fail, led to the delights of the bedroom.

"Fine," he grumbled, "I'll let you have the bath to yourself." He turned on the taps adding a generous amount of bubble bath for Molly. When it was ready he helped her get in insisting, "I am not going to risk you hurting yourself or our baby by trying to get into it alone. Do you want me to wash your body?"

She gave him another look. "I think I can manage, honey. Why don't you turn on the telly and I'll let you know when I'm ready to come out."

"Fine," he huffed, stalking into the main room and turning on the television. He flipped through the channels, but soon turned the television off again.

Sherlock's phone pinged. He and Molly had purchased SIM cards for their phones in case of emergency, but this was the first time he had received a message. It was from John.

"Just got back to London . Hope you are having fun in America. I had a lot of fun on my honeymoon. Sorry old chap about not asking you to be best man again, but well, I didn't fancy waiting another 28 days to register intent to marry. Glad we had that conversation about Gibraltar when you were engaged."

Molly called from the bathroom, "Was that your phone, Sherlock?"

"Uh, yeah, I kind of have something to tell you."

"Well, you can help me get out of the bath now, I'm done."

"Coming." As he walked to the bathroom, he wondered how we was going to tell her. He hoped she wouldn't be upset with him for not saying anything before, but it had been John's request. He helped Molly out of the tub, rubbing her down gently with the towel, quite a luxurious one for a hotel chain, he mused.

Then he left Molly to dress again, while he sat on the bed cross-legged, steepling his fingers. How would he approach this?

His wife came and sat on the bed. "So what was so important that you got a text? We told people it was only to be used for emergencies. I hope there's not some urgent case requiring your attention as soon as we get home."

"It's not about that." He hesitated, then went on, "It was from John."

"Oh! Is he okay? I know you haven't spoken to him in awhile. Gosh, wasn't the last time a few days before Valentine's Day? You said he visited you when I was at work."

"Uh, yeah, that's right. Well, he sort of came for a particular reason, to tell me something." He hesitated again, unsure of how to continue.

Molly crossed her arms and frowned. "Why do I have the feeling you are going to tell me something I don't like?"

"Well, it's kind of good news," the sleuth hedged.

"Then why are you hesitating?"

"He came to tell me he was eloping with Kayla," he said in a rush, bracing himself for an irate wife. Instead, she surprised him.

"Oh, how romantic!" She enthused. "I'm so happy for her. But where did they go to elope? I thought everywhere required 28 days notice to register for your marriage."

"Gibraltar. I researched it back when we were headed to Dartmoor, just for something to do."

Molly raised her eyebrow. "'You did?" Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wasn't seriously considering it. I wanted to give you the wedding you deserved."

She smiled at him then, and he felt a rush of tenderness for his wife come over him. She always surprised him with her patience and willingness to listen. "Anyway," he continued, "I found out that the famous eloping spot, Gretna Green no longer did elopements. Further research showed that the only place you could really elope to in a hurry that wasn't too far away, was Gibraltar, which only required a day's notice of intent to marry."

"Oh, so that's why Kayla wasn't in church on the Sunday before we left for America, she was on her honeymoon, right?"

Sherlock looked admiringly at his wife. "You are a very intelligent woman, my love."

"You only just realized that?"

"Well, no, but it is incredibly sexy to me that you are not only beautiful, but intelligent as well."

"Sherlock Holmes, are you flirting with me?"

He gave her his best sidelong sexy look. "Possibly. Is it working?"

She giggled. "Possibly, especially when you look at me like that. But I'm still waiting to hear the rest of the story."

"Okay, well John came over to tell me he had bought a ring and intended to propose. As you know, your friend has been very forthcoming about wishing to follow our example and not have an intimate relationship with John when they weren't married. I know it has been hard for him, remembering how hard it was during our own engagement, but he respected her wishes. Anyway, he was planning to propose two days before Valentine's Day, and whisk Kayla off to Gibraltar, get them registered immediately and marry her on Valentine's Day."

Molly clasped her hands together. "I love it! I'm assuming she agreed?"

"Of course she did. If she was as desperate to be with John as we were to be with each other, does that surprise you?"

"Not at all. So, you are saying that while we were enjoying our wedding night re-creation at the Ritz, they were enjoying their real wedding night?"

"Yup," the detective smiled a little smugly at the part he had played to help the path to true love, now that he knew his wife was not cross with him. "Anyway, he was texting me to say they were back in London after their honeymoon. And before you ask, Harry stayed with Rosie while they were gone."

"Wow, I think we started a trend. I should be cross, because you said nothing when I made that comment on Valentine's Day about so many people getting engaged..."

Sherlock looked at her hopefully, "You forgive me for not telling you earlier?"

Molly leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. "Like you said, it wasn't your secret to tell. I can't wait to congratulate them when we get home."

"Well, let's not think about home just yet. We still have a few days here, and right now I think I deserve a reward for helping John with his elopement idea."

"Sweetheart, you know I adore you, but I'm really tired right now. The reason I didn't want to share the bath with you is so you wouldn't get all...frisky on me."

"Oh, very well," he huffed. "Just promise me that if we have a rest now, you won't make any excuse later if I decide to get 'frisky.'"

She giggled then, and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. "I promise. Can I have a nap now?"

"Fine, I guess I'll join you. I feel like we didn't really get enough sleep last night anyway."

"That's your fault. We only got back to the hotel at one in the morning and then you kept me occupied for another hour."

"Can I help it if you are so sexy?"

"Don't be getting any ideas with your talking like that to me."

 ** _Oh well, I tried._** He stripped down to his boxers and joined his wife, who had divested herself of everything but bra and knickers. He settled himself behind her, looping his arm around his wife and covering her belly gently with it, and they enjoyed a nice afternoon nap.

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 **Author's note:** If you are a John fan, I hope you are not too upset at the thought of him moving on with someone else My Journey story chronicles more of his relationship with Molly's friend, Kayla.

I hope you enjoyed the imagery of those self-flushing toilets again. It is one of the things I detest, when they flush as you are still on them - don't you feel sorry for poor Molly?

What did you think of Sherlock's impression of Alan Rickman? I just had to do it, seeing as Benedict C. really can do a fantastic impression of him as Snape.

Reviews welcome and appreciated.


	3. Making Tourist Plans

Thanks VictorianLady79 for beta'ing.

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Following their afternoon nap, Molly slid out of her sleeping husband's embrace and got dressed. She was well aware of the fact that if she remained in her state of undress, Sherlock would use the opportunity to have his way with her.

Not that she really minded, but they had technically already made love twice since returning from the studio and she knew he would not be put off when they went to bed later. Sherlock seemed to have no limits to his stamina, but she was definitely getting more exhausted as the days progressed. Sometimes the baby would position herself in a way that pressed on a nerve and it produced some pain. Molly didn't really want to tell Sherlock about it, because he would undoubtedly be all solicitous and over-protective. He would probably insist that they just spend the rest of their holiday in the hotel rather than doing any sight-seeing, which was the last thing she wanted. She wanted them to have some fun on their overseas trip. After all, it was unlikely they'd be making any long journeys for quite some time once their daughter was born.

Molly looked over at Sherlock. His mouth was slightly open and occasionally he gave a tiny snore. He was a quiet sleeper for the most part and rarely restless, so she had no complaints about that. But oh, did he look adorable with his hair falling over his face in a manner that made her want to brush it from his forehead. If she did that though, he would take it as an open invitation.

Molly looked down at her feet. They were still aching a little from the day's walk and looked slightly swollen. She almost groaned at that. The last thing she needed was to start getting swollen feet and ankles now, while they were away from home. They would just have to stay at the hotel tonight and hopefully her feet would be better the next day. Tonight they could make plans for the next few days.

Molly searched the drawers in the room. She found a drawer that contained a Gideon Bible, some hotel stationery and a couple pencils.

She pulled the items out of the drawer and waited for Sherlock to wake up, opening the tiny Bible. She propped her pillow up against the headboard, resting against it while she read a few Psalms to keep herself occupied as she did so.

It was about ten minutes before Sherlock blinked up at her sleepily, his beautiful turquoise gaze meeting her own coffee one.

"Hi, sleepyhead," she teased. "I guess you were more tired than you thought."

"I guess so." He sat up and slid back so he could kiss her cheek. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, I found this little Gideon Bible in the drawer so I was just reading a few of the Psalms. I kind of feel guilty for leaving our Bibles at home."

"I don't think God will punish us for taking a few days off," he assured her. Since Sherlock had become a Christian during their engagement, he had read his way through most of the New Testament and some of the Old Testament as well. Molly was proud of him. Sometimes they would read aloud to each other, but his beautiful voice was so distracting that she sometimes forgot to listen to the words he was saying, just enjoying the rich timbre of his voice.

"I guess you're right, and our suitcase was pretty full. Plus you had to stuff a garment bag to take on the plane with three suit jackets so you'd keep up your fashionable detective look."

"Well, those would not have done well in a suitcase. I did let you roll up my shirts though."

"And I had to iron them as soon as we got here," Molly grinned. "What would you have done if there wasn't an iron provided in one of these cupboards?"

"I guess my shirts would have been wrinkled. It's not like you see too much of them with my suit jacket buttoned."

Molly stared at him. "It would have been nice if you told me that before I spent fifteen minutes ironing them to make them wrinkle free."

Sherlock shrugged. "You were so triumphant when you found the iron and ironing board in the cupboard that I didn't have the heart to tell you I would have worn my shirts, wrinkles and all."

Molly huffed, but then said, "Well, at least you were smartly dressed for the interview. I wouldn't want anyone thinking I don't take care of you properly."

She regretted the wording when her husband immediately jumped on it to say in a seductive voice, "You do like taking care of me, don't you?" He clasped a hand behind her neck and pulled her towards him for a sizzling kiss. Heat immediately spread through her at his touch, but she resisted the urge to lose herself in him. This was exactly what she didn't want happening right now.

"Not now, Sherlock," she entreated, hating the look of frustration that crossed his face.

"You are making me feel the way I did during our engagement, extremely frustrated." He ran his hands through his curls as he said the words.

"Honey, I'm not trying to be mean here, but we have plenty of time. It's funny, remember how our roles were reversed on Valentine's Day, before we went to dinner? You denied me twice."

"That was only because I needed to reserve my stamina for the night ahead. Remember, re-creating our wedding night entailed making love three times."

"And if we make love now that will be three times today and you will probably want to make love before bed, right?"

"Well, of course. I don't sleep very well otherwise. The biochemical release of oxytocin, endorphins and prolactin make me sleepy."

"I rest my case for why we are not making love now. You'll want to go back to sleep."

He huffed, but conceded defeat. "Fine, then how do you want to spend this fine evening, my wife?"

"I thought we could make a list of places to go over the next few days. That way we will be more organized."

"You and your lists. Wedding to-do lists, abstinence guidelines when we were engaged..."

Molly looked at him. "I seem to recall you making your own list of things you wanted to do while we were engaged taking just a little more liberty each time."

"Well, it worked didn't it? I think it was that list that saved us from giving in to our desires before the wedding night," he retorted.

"You're probably right," she agreed, leaning towards Sherlock to give him a soft kiss on his pouting lips. They had really struggled with keeping their hands off each other during their engagement and keeping their virtue intact. But they had also felt it was something God wanted them to do and they had succeeded. Giving each other the gift of their virginity on their wedding night had been the best gift either one of them could have offered.

"Why don't you get dressed and we can make this list before we head to dinner?" she suggested. "Do you still have that travel guide?"

"I'll get it." Sherlock got out of bed and walked over to his discarded suit jacket, pulling the brochure out of the pocket. "Here you go," he said, handing it to Molly before getting dressed.

Molly looked at it. "Well, we've done the Walk Of Fame. Obviously we can't do Disneyland because of my current condition."

"I'll take you somewhere better, one day," declared Sherlock confidently.

"What would be better than the 'most magical place on earth?'" she asked him.

"I've heard that DisneyWorld in Florida is much bigger. There are four parks and a couple water parks as well. One day we will go there with our children."

Molly couldn't help but thrill at his words. Yes, Victoria was going to be here soon, but he was talking confidently as if they would have more children which she definitely wanted as well. She did not want Victoria to be an only child as she herself had been.

"I'd like that," she said softly, adding, "although I wouldn't want to do it until our family was complete, and the youngest at least old enough to remember the memory."

"So at least four then," responded her darling husband, as if he had thought it all out beforehand.

"You really do want to go there, don't you?" she asked.

"I've seen the commercial on the telly."

"Would you ride the roller coasters?" she asked curiously.

"I might." He shrugged. "I guess it will depend on how many years from now it is."

"Now you are making me look forward to the distant future," Molly said with a grin.

"Don't age us prematurely, sweetheart. I want to enjoy things now - having you to myself at least for a little while longer and then having our sweet baby girl."

He came back to the bed sitting cross-legged next to her, after leaning in to stroke her cheek and kiss it.

They sat together making their list for the next few days, including a trip to Griffith Park and Griffith Observatory, where they would be able to see the Los Angeles Zoo and the planetarium among other attractions. It would take a full day to explore that, maybe even two. There was the Getty Center, where they could look at paintings, sculptures and even early photography. There was the California Science Center and finally, there was Venice Beach and the Santa Monica Pier to walk along.

"I think that will keep us busy," commented Molly.

"Indeed," agreed Sherlock.

She laid the pencil and list aside and they headed downstairs for dinner. They contemplated going out somewhere, but decided there would be other days to do it and besides, Molly's feet continued to ache a little.

"Do you want to take a swim in the hotel pool?" asked Sherlock after dinner as they made their way upstairs. "You did buy a maternity swimming costume after all for this purpose."

"I guess today would be a good time, seeing as we are staying at the hitel tonight," agreed Molly.

In their suite, Molly changed into her swimming costume. She felt a little self-conscious with her big belly protruding from the one-piece, but Sherlock came over and kissed her abdomen fondly.

"You should be proud that you are carrying new life within you," he informed her. "I certainly am."

He, of course, looked devastatingly handsome in his Union Jack swimming trunks.

Hand in hand, they made their way downstairs to the pool area. Large towels were provided for the guests so Sherlock took two and draped them over two of the loungers beside the pool.

Fortunately there weren't many people availing themselves of the pool facilities. The couple frolicked in the pool playfully splashing each other. Every now and then Sherlock would pull her into him for a sweet kiss. It was the first time they'd been in a pool together and seeing Sherlock's playful side was so much fun. After about an hour though, his sweet kisses were becoming a little longer and his hands were traveling to places where they should not have been traveling in a public venue, even though there was nobody near them. She playfully swatted his hand away.

On the third occasion, when he came up behind her to wrap his arms closely around her, just above her abdomen, Molly suddenly realized Sherlock was in the mood for something besides playing in the pool. He pressed against her, kissing her neck, making it quite clear what he wanted and she gulped.

"Uh, Sherlock, I think we need to go back upstairs now," she said.

"I agree, sweetheart," he nipped playfully at her earlobe, then kissed her neck and her heartbeat started to accelerate. "Be a love and get my towel for me, won't you?" he asked. "I don't think we need to share my current condition with anyone, do we?"

Molly was the one who blushed as she got out of the pool, grabbed her towel, then brought one over to Sherlock so he could drape it around himself.

"I think we had better get another towel for you to dry yourself off with while we leave that one around your waist," she said, noting that the towel did not entirely do the job of disguising his current state.

"Yes and perhaps you should walk just in front of me as we go back upstairs," he said with a wry smile. "You really ought to stop being tempting."

They picked up another towel for Sherlock to use, and Molly told him, "I did nothing to tempt you, you did that entirely on your own."

"I can't help it if you entice me every time you look at me, wife," he responded as they walked towards the lifts - elevators by the American name.

They got into one of them and Sherlock pressed the button for their floor. Then, because there was nobody in there with them, he proceeded to kiss her quite thoroughly until they reached their floor and the lift door opened.

They hurried to their suite, Sherlock practically dragging her along as they walked hand-in-hand. As soon as they were inside he lost no time in stripping her of her wet swimming costume and divesting himself of his own trunks.

Despite Sherlock's hurried actions he picked her up gently, depositing her into the middle of the bed. There he began to kiss her urgently, hungrily devouring her mouth, covering her lips with his own and moving his hands along her body, thrilling her senses.

Sometime later, after they had regained their breath, Molly ventured, "I think we need to use hotel pools more often if that is the result."

Sherlock chuckled, kissing her hair as she lay encircled in his arms. "As long as you are there to preserve my modesty I have no objection. I was not really expecting that to happen, but then again I definitely lacked the practical experience of being in a pool with an incredibly beautiful, sexy woman."

Molly turned her head so they could kiss once more and then they slept, although it was not even ten o'clock.

* * *

 **Author's note:** so ahem, yes, well, what did you think of the pool scene? At least he got what he wanted in the end, right?

I hope you enjoyed this fluffy little chapter. You can probably tell I really love writing super romance - must come from my days of watching soap operas and of course reading those romantic novels haha.

If you are not familiar with my other works, this chapter does make reference to things from my Journey story, as well as the First Valentine's Day and Night one. For the most complete immersion into these characters, check those out.

Note on Gideon Bibles - they are distributed at hotels in many countries, when those hotels permit the Gideons to do so.

Updated for corrections and better flow 7/2/18


	4. More Sightseeing

It was only a little after six when Sherlock opened his eyes. He had slept very soundly and felt refreshed, ready to go out and explore this American city. Molly was still cradled in his arms, and he bent his head to kiss her sweetly parted lips.

She opened her eyes instantly and returned the pressure of his lips.

"Good morning, my beautiful wife," he said gazing into her eyes. "Do you think you are up to some sight-seeing today?"

"Of course." She smiled up at him. "Let's get dressed and we can figure out where to go."

They got out of bed, dressed, then looked at the list Molly had made.

"Seeing as we are up early, how about Griffith Park?" she suggested. "There's so much stuff to do there."

"Sounds good."

Molly checked the opening times for different attractions. "Looks like the zoo only opens at ten, and the observatory at noon," she said, pouting. "So much for getting an early start."

Sherlock nuzzled her neck. "I can think of a way to pass the time."

"Stop it, you." She swatted him away playfully and this time it was Sherlock's turn to pout. "Let's go and have breakfast, then we can decide what to do next."

"In our room?"

"Yeah, we could watch some telly."

This time Sherlock frowned. "We did not come to America to watch the television."

"I could make the same argument about making love."

"That's different," he protested. "Television is just entertainment. Making love is a necessity which requires attention wherever we may be."

"Oh, the things that come out of your mouth sometimes!"

Sherlock huffed. Molly was definitely not in the mood to be seduced apparently. "Fine, let's get some breakfast."

The pair headed downstairs for another buffet breakfast, at which Molly showed once again that she apparently had an iron stomach. **_It's amazing she hasn't gained thirty pounds,_** he thought, but decided it would be best to not say so aloud. She might not appreciate the sentiment.

He checked his watch. It was still only eight o'clock. "Well, my love, what do you propose we do for the next hour and a half?" he questioned. "Another dip in the pool?"

Molly looked at him. "Oh no. I know what comes next."

He pushed the lift button for their floor. "You're being very cruel to me today," he grumbled.

The lift doors opened and they stepped inside. They were not the only ones in the lift this time, unlike the previous evening, so Molly said in a low tone to him, "I'm not being cruel. I'm being practical."

"How so?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I'll tell you once we are back in our suite."

They rode in silence until they reached their floor, got out and returned to their room. Closing the door behind them, Sherlock asked, "So, how are you being practical?"

Mollyrolled her eyes at him. "I know full well that you want to make love before we go out."

"And what of it?" he asked, furrowing his brow. She was truly vexing him this morning.

"You said yourself, the release of those endorphins and other stuff make you sleepy. By the time you have the inevitable nap afterwards, we won't even get to our destination until after lunch."

"Fair point," he conceded. He knew she was right, but that didn't make him any happier about it. "So, how do you propose we spend the next hour and some minutes then?"

"I brought along a pack of cards. We can play a card game like Go Fish."

"Go what?" He had never played recreational card games.

"Go Fish, you've never heard of it?"

"I do not believe so. I've played Poker and Blackjack, but that's about it."

"Well, you need to be able to play a game that kids can play. One day our kids will want to play cards with us, and we need to be able to play the fun, kid friendly card games."

"I highly doubt it," he scoffed. "In this era of technology, I don't think anyone will still be playing cards in a few years. Kids will be on their electronic devices, like iPads or phones and what-not."

Molly glared at him. "I don't care what technology is out there in a few years' time, our child, or hopefully, children will learn how to play card games, and I am going to teach you this one right now so you know how to play too."

When Molly felt strongly about something, Sherlock did not argue with her. She did not assert herself very often on something and you had to pick your battles. This was not one he particularly wish to fight. "Okay, love. Teach me how to play the game."

He was rewarded with a dazzling smile that made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her, but decided he didn't want her to get cross with him for distracting her, so he restrained himself.

Molly explained the rules to him. Really, it was a pathetically simple game, but then, he supposed, that was rather the point, if it was meant to be kid-friendly. "It's really more fun with more than two people, because then it becomes more about choosing the right person from whom to request a card. Perhaps we'll have to invite Greg and Lori over some time, or one of our other couple friends."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the idea of playing "Go Fish" with other adults, but even as he did so, he realized it was quite surprising how many friends they actually had these days. There was Greg and Lori, as Molly had suggested, John and Kayla, with Rosie, Kaitlyn and David. There were even Molly's friends from church, who had also become his by extension, Caleb and Abigail. They had a four month old daughter of their own, called Arabella. Suddenly he realized Molly was snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"Sherlock, are you going to pick up your cards and play here, or did I just explain the rules for nothing? What were you thinking about?"

Sherlock picked up his cards as he responded. "I was just thinking about how many friends we have these days. A year ago I was obsessing over Culverton Smith and putting my life on the line by getting high. John hated me and I had no friends to speak of."

When his wife opened her mouth to refute what he had said, he stopped her. "Let me finish my thought. John hated me, you were avoiding me. Mrs. Hudson was probably regretting that she'd ever let out the flat to me because I was trashing it, and even Mycroft had probably given up on me. I was so alone, Molly, and in a dark place. But now, look at me - look at us. We have several friends and they are people who genuinely care about me as well as you."

Molly smiled at him. "It's amazing how love can change a person, isn't it?"

"And I thank God each and everyday that you never gave up on me, sweetheart."

Molly put her cards down and took his hand. "I hope you realize that when you were off getting high last year, I would have been there for you if I'd known what was happening to you. I was only avoiding you because I was cross with the rude way you behaved at Rosie's christening, texting during the service and all. I would have been there in a heartbeat if I'd known you needed me."

He squeezed her hand. "I know you would have. At least some good came out of that time, John stopped hating me, and I realized when Smith was about to kill me that I didn't want to die."

"And look at us now. We are so blessed, Sherlock. God is good."

"All the time," he responded, and they started to play Go Fish.

After a few rounds, Sherlock had had enough. He checked his watch and saw with relief that it was time to go anyway.

He put the cards away while Molly used the loo and put on a touch of makeup. He didn't think she needed it, but she always said she needed a little, just for self confidence when they were out in public.

They departed shortly thereafter and made their way to Griffith Park. They had no sooner entered the taxi and gone a block down the street, when Sherlock noticed something and said to his wife, "Look - there's a nightclub here."

"There are nightclubs everywhere around here," she pointed out.

"Hear me out. You know how we like to do our re-creations?"

"Nooo," Molly said a little sarcastically, before grinning. "Of course, go on."

"Well, remember that interesting dream you told me about a few months ago? You know, just a couple weeks before we got married."

"Now why would I remember that?" she teased. "It was only the most erotic dream I've ever had, Well, aside from the historical romance ones. Those were a lot of fun. But at least they happened after we were already married. It was a bit embarrassing to have one before we were married."

"At least yours had a nice storyline. My erm, erotic dream a couple weeks earlier was very short and entailed just a little groping." He remembered waking up from that and the embarrassment that had followed.

Molly giggled. "It was a bit funny that I, of all people, should have had a truly erotic dream which involved certain activities of a sexual nature, despite the lack of practical experience. It's funny how I still remember it quite vividly though, the dream in general."

"Probably because you told me about it, which helped cement it in your memory," he remarked.

"I guess so. So anyway, why are we talking about that dream?"

"Well, darling, you remember you dreamed we met at university in a nightclub?"

"Oh, right, it was rather...hot. So are you saying we should re-create it here, in America?"

"Why not? If we don't do it before the baby comes, we will probably never get another opportunity. Besides, it will give us something to do here one evening - maybe tomorrow or the day after?"

He waited for her response. The idea of kissing her on a dance floor in a nightclub was rather exciting. The nightclub was so close to the hotel that they could just head straight there after their little scene. **_Oh yes, it sounded VERY nice._**

"Ok, let's do it," Molly said, and Sherlock smiled.

When they arrived at Griffith Park, first the couple went to the zoo. Sherlock was fascinated to see the way Molly gravitated towards the big cats. She enthused about the snow leopard, Sumatran tigers and the lions. "You know I've always been a cat lover," she told her him when he wondered aloud at her fascination. "Remember, I had a cat once."

"Does that mean you have a secret desire to get another one?" Sherlock asked. He wondered what Mrs. Hudson would think if they got one.

"Not now," Molly answered. "I'd probably have to start taking allergy medicine again if we had a cat. I wouldn't consider it at the moment because I think we will be rather occupied with our baby soon. I guess if we ever bought a house elsewhere and our family was complete, I'd consider having another cat. I know children like to have pets."

"Then we will consider it one day, if that is what you wish."

Molly gave him a peck on the cheek. "That's sweet of you to say, especially in light of the fact that you weren't particularly fond of Toby."

"I'd tolerate having one if it made you happy."

"Now that's the kind of talk that will earn you a reward...later," she said, with a wink, and Sherlock frowned at her.

"Talk like that again and we will just go back to the hotel now. Don't tempt me, Molly."

"I can't even flirt with my own husband?"

"Not in a public place. You know what you do to me."

"Fine, I'll be good," she promised, and Sherlock certainly hoped she meant it.

One of the exhibits that fascinated him most was seeing koalas for the first time. He read the information about them. "Wow, they sleep for about twenty hours a day. Must be some life. And fussy eaters too, just eucalyptus leaves? No wonder there are not many of them outside of Australia."

"They're so adorable," enthused Molly. "I wish I could hold one!"

"I suppose you'd like to visit Australia now?" He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I would love to, but that would be an awfully long trip. They have so many unique animals, koalas, kangaroos, the platypus..."

"And several of the world's deadliest snakes too, I believe," he offered helpfully.

"Well, perhaps we'd best not head there anytime soon then," she responded, laughing.

They continued to look at the zoo animals, marvelling at the elephants and giraffes and their sheer size.

The meerkats also were a big hit with Molly. "Look at the way they stand on their hind legs, it's like they are begging to be picked up and held!" she exclaimed.

Sherlock looked at Molly fondly. She was so excited by everything she saw, it was like she was a child, and he loved her for her enthusiasm.

Finally, after about three hours, Molly started to complain that her feet were hurting again. They made a short stop at the gift shop, where Sherlock bought her a small, stuffed koala, for which she thanked him very satisfyingly with a lingering kiss afterwards. Kisses from Molly were always satisfying.

They had eaten lunch already, and Sherlock asked, "Do you want to see the Griffith Observatory now or just return to the hotel?" He was a little concerned that she might be overtaxing herself, but he wasn't going to demand they leave.

They were sitting on a bench, still inside the zoo, near the entrance.

"If we rest for a little bit, I think I can manage to get to the observatory."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Can we just sit here for awhile?"

"Okay." He put his arm around her waist and she rested her head against his shoulder. They watched as zoo visitors came and went.

"Isn't it nice to have this lovely weather in February? To be able to sit in the sunshine without a heavy coat. You didn't even have to bring your precious Belstaff."

"I would not call my Belstaff 'precious,' just very warm and comfortable. Besides, you seem to be rather fond of using one of my extras at the moment back at home"

"Out of necessity. At least it saved me from going out and spending a lot of money on a maternity coat."

"You still may have to do that," Sherlock responded. "It only just fits over your belly."

"I'll just leave the button open when I get bigger, no big deal."

They sat quietly for some minutes more until Molly said she was ready to go.

They made their way to the Griffith Observatory.

Sherlock took note of the fact that Molly's favourite part was watching shows in the planetarium, which meant she could stay seated. After three of them, he asked carefully, "Do you want to go back to the hotel now?" He was really getting concerned about her walking around too much.

Molly sighed. "Much as I'd like to see the other exhibits, we pprobably should. My feet are really starting to hurt."

He peered down at her feet, and they did appear to be swollen, particularly her ankles. "Swollen feet and ankles are a common occurrence in late pregnancy," he said, remembering his hours of research about pregnancy, first the early signs, then more as Molly's pregnancy had progressed. "Fortunately there's a taxi stand not far from here."

They left the observatory. Sherlock had his arm around Molly's waist, and she was leaning heavily against him. She was obviously not feeling comfortable.

Back at the hotel, in their suite, Sherlock helped Molly get undressed. She was looking extremely tired and her ankles concerned him.

"You're supposed to drink more when you have swollen ankles," he told her, getting her a bottle of water from the mini fridge. Then he placed some extra pillows under her feet to keep them elevated as she lay on the bed.

"This reminds me of the way you played nurse after I had that fall at church a few months ago, when I hurt my ankle," she murmured sleepily.

Sherlock took off his shirt and trousers - he had not worn his suit jacket because it was too warm, and laid himself next to her. Sliding an arm around her so her head was on his shoulder he whispered, "Sleep now, love."

It was only mid afternoon, but they had had a busy time, and soon they both drifted off.

* * *

 **Author's note:** You may have noticed I love flirty talk between Sherlock and Molly!

In regards to the zoo, I researched what the Los Angeles zoo had. They do have koalas (unlike the London zoo) so I figured it was safe to say Sherlock had not seen them before. I also figured as a cat lover, Molly would enjoy the big cats. I saw meerkats in Australia at the zoo on a visit to see my family almost 5 years ago, and they are so cute.

As for the swollen ankles, I had them from about the seventh month in my first pregnancy. It is not fun!

References to Sherlock and Molly's past - you can find the Uni story with Molly's dream, as well as the historical romance dreams, and Sherlock did play nurse to Molly after a fall in my Journey story. As always I interconnect my stories for the full experience, even though it is up to you if you wish to immerse yourself fully in my Sherlolly universe.

Hope to hear from you with your feedback on this chapter!

Updated for corrections and better flow 7/2/18


	5. A Night In

_Sherlock had laid her on the bed and her senses were thrilling at his touch, at the feel of his lips on hers and his hands on her body. He was so gentle with her, understanding her inexperience. His eyes were glazed, hooded with desire as he lifted his head. "Is this okay? Does it feel...good?" he asked._

" _Yes, Sherlock," she gasped, lost in a whirlwind of emotions."More than good. It feels...wonderful, so right." And it did feel right, even though it was oh so wrong, to have come here, to his room with him. But she had longed for him from afar for so long._

Molly stirred restlessly even as the scene shifted to the lab at St. Bart's.

 _She was with him again and she knew it was wrong, but oh, the things he did to her, and she wanted one last memory to keep her company over the lonely years that were sure to follow. Sherlock was so strong, yet still gentle with her, as if he recognized her love for him and wanted to give himself to her as well, to love her._

The scene shifted yet again.

 _Sherlock had come to see her after the events at Sherrinford. He had asked her to marry him, and then he had carried her to the bedroom. Afterwards, he told her everything that had happened at Sherrinford, and they made love again. Oh but he had been such an expert in the way he made love to her._

 _Then she and Sherlock were telling people they were together - John, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson._

Finally came flashes of memory into the dream, real memories that finished with a very wonderful wedding night as they gave and unwrapped the most precious gift of one another's virginity.

Molly writhed in her sleep and suddenly her eyes flickered open as a voice murmured in her ear, "That must be some erotic dream you are having, darling. Your body is sending me those scent signals, and that always," here he gave her a nudge that made her eyes widen, "turns me on."

Molly flushed with embarrassment. It was a bit strange to be having an erotic dream about her husband when he was right next to her. _Was that cheating?_

She guessed not, seeing as it was certainly him in the dream. That dream had definitely been intense enough to make her want the real thing.

Molly noticed that she had kicked aside the supporting pillows for her feet. They didn't seem to be aching anymore at least.

Sherlock nudged her again with his body, as he whispered in her ear. "Well, wife, do you want to tell me about this dream of yours now...or later?" Even as he said the words, his hand was traveling south to tug her knickers downwards. She lifted her bum so he could pull them off, as she reached for his boxers.

"Later," she said breathlessly as she managed to tug the boxers down partway before he finished the process.

"I should make you wait, torture you a little, because you rejected me earlier," he teased with a smirk, as he slid his hands behind her back to unclasp her bra, before removing it deftly and tossing it onto the floor.

Oh yes, that was another thing that Sherlock had mastered very well since their marriage. She remembered his still awkward attempt to remove her white corset on their wedding night. It had taken several minutes, and a few muttered curses as well. She smiled at the recollection.

"What are you smiling at?" inquired Sherlock, raising an eyebrow as he traced the curve of her breast lightly, making her squirm.

She giggled a little, she was very ticklish when he touched her so lightly. "I was thinking how much your technique has improved since you first tried unhooking my bra."

"I concur," he agreed. "Do you need to use the loo, Molly, before we go any further with this?" he asked, casting her one of his seductive glances. "We don't want a mid-performance interruption." Her heart pounded with anticipation at his words. And why did those intense looks of his still turn her to mush?

Molly thought for a moment. For once her over-active bladder was behaving. "I think we're good, as long as you don't prolong things too much. Like, get to the main event sooner, rather than later." She sent her own seductive look his way and he chuckled.

"Your wish is my command." His mouth claimed hers in a very sensual kiss. Molly threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into her.

He lifted his mouth from hers to say softly in his rich baritone, "I really hope it was a dream version of me that got you like this, sweetheart."

"It...it was definitely you." She was struggling to form a coherent thought, as he continued to kiss her passionately. "Please, Sherlock," she finally gasped, looking up at into his hooded gaze, his dilated eyes.

"Please what?" he asked silkily, as his hand trailed along the curve of her breast.

"I need you...now," she panted, her body on fire for him.

Finally, Sherlock did as she asked.

Afterwards, Molly allowed herself five minutes in his embrace, before struggling out of his arms to go to the bathroom. Towards the end, her bladder had begun to make its presence felt. It had been a little uncomfortable, but it also seemed to enhance her pleasure somewhat. _Very strange._

When she returned from the bathroom to cuddle with her wonderful lover of a husband, he gave her a penetrating stare and asked, "Now will you tell me about that dream?"

She snuggled against him and placed a quick kiss on his chest. "It's entirely your fault I had a dream just now, with your talk this morning of re-creating our first kiss from my university dream."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You dreamed that nightclub kiss again?"

She flashed him a little grin. "Not exactly. Remember how I told you about those love scenes?" At his nod, she continued. "Well, this time I was dreaming some of those love scenes and they were very erotic, and very realistic, and oh, the last one after the Sherrinford talk was even more sexy - and that scene wasn't in the original dream. So we made love first before you explained about what had happened, and again afterwards."

Sherlock's arms tightened about her. "That sounds very _hot_ , my love." He smirked and pushed a few stray strands of damp hair away from her flushed face. "I still can't believe you dreamed I got you pregnant and then thought you had a one-night-stand with someone else. The real me would never have thought that of you."

"Oh, it definitely _was_ hot," she agreed, adding as her lips curved upwards, "and I know you would not have been as oblivious to the truth as my dream Sherlock." Her hand came up to caress his cheek lightly.

"I'm very glad I was only competing with myself just now then," he remarked, a little possessively. Then his lips tightened a little. "Remember your first Barbara Cartland dream? I felt a little insecure, competing with a prince."

"The prince was still you," she pointed out, trailing a hand lightly across his chest.

"Nevertheless, it was a bit disconcerting when you said, ' _my prince_ '," he returned, putting his hand over hers to stop its movement.

"I was still half asleep, and I did apologize. As I recall, you accepted my apology willingly enough." With her hand trapped, she kissed his chest instead.

"It was either that or take a cold shower," he grumbled, stroking her hair to show he was not really cross about that.

She giggled. "Aren't you glad _that_ is a thing of the past?"

"Most definitely, my love," he said emphatically, then changed the subject. "So, are you ready to go downstairs and have some dinner?"

Molly suddenly realized she was famished. All that bedroom exercise could be quite wearing, especially now she was about seven months pregnant. "I could definitely eat," she proclaimed, putting a hand on her belly and rubbing it absently.

Sherlock's expression changed as his eyebrows suddenly drew together. "Actually, how are your feet? If they are still swollen, we can just order room service," he said, in a tone of concern.

Molly lifted her feet for his inspection. They were almost back to normal. "I think room service actually sounds good. That way we don't have to get dressed. We can just put on those lovely robes the hotel provides," she told him, darting a quick glance at his face

"I like the way you think, sweetheart. Makes it easier for...later," Sherlock murmured huskily, kissing the top of her head.

Molly rolled her eyes, even though her husband couldn't see them as her head was resting contentedly on his chest again. "I swear, Sherlock, you have a one-track mind."

"I have no cases here to distract me. What else is there to think about besides making love to my very lovely and very tempting wife?" he answered with a little chuckle and caress of her protruding abdomen.

Molly sucked in a breath. "Stop talking that way, Sherlock, or we won't be having any dinner." She sat up as she spoke, seeking distraction. "Where's the room service menu?"

"I'll get it," Sherlock responded, reluctantly removing his arms from her. He got off the bed and walked to the TV stand. As he leaned down to retrieve the hotel room pamphlet that included the room service menu, Molly scrambled off the bed so she could squeeze his extremely hot bum.

Before she could turn away, he reached around, grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a steamy kiss. "Don't think I didn't hear you coming, baby," he told her in a deep, sexy voice, giving her _that_ look.

She backed away from the predatory gleam in his eye. He was truly insatiable. "No, I'll be good, I promise!" she told him in a penitent voice. _At this rate, I'm going to starve,_ she thought a little wildly.

"Fine," he huffed, running a hand through his hair, before casting her a stern glance. "Just don't do it again, unless you are prepared for what comes next."

"I won't," she assured him, nonetheless giving him a wary look. "So, can we order something now?"

They looked at the room service menu and Sherlock called in their orders.

When a knock sounded on the door twenty minutes later, and they were both dressed in robes, Sherlock opened the door as a tray was wheeled into the room.

"Just leave the cart outside the room when you are done with it, sir," said the man. He stood there expectantly and Molly handed him a tip which she had taken out of Sherlock's wallet.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Sherlock said, once the man had exited. "I completely forgot about tipping for room service. I am more accustomed to a service charge being automatically added to the bill."

"Lori warned me about that before we left," she said confidingly, "otherwise I wouldn't have thought of it either."

Sherlock looked over at his still open wallet where Molly had left it after extracting one of the notes. "American money is so strange, too easy to mix the notes," he stated, and Molly had to agree.

The couple took their food over to the small dining table that was in the dining area of their luxurious suite. Molly was so hungry, she finished her food before Sherlock. "Did you want some of mine?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at her indulgently.

She was still hungry and looked longingly at the food still on his plate, chewing her lower lip, but didn't want to deprive her husband of his meal. "No, it's okay."

Instead of taking her at her word, he pushed his plate towards her. "I should have ordered more food. You eat. I've had enough."

Molly pursed her lips. "Are you sure?" she asked, a little uncertainly.

"Of course. You and Victoria need it more than I do. Besides," he added, patting his flat stomach, "I've put on a few pounds since we got married. I don't want to end up having to go on a diet."

Her admiring gaze swept over him. "Honey, you have an Adonis-like figure, not a spare ounce of flesh on you." _He truly has a perfect physique,_ she thought to herself. Not overly muscled, just enough to look trim and fit.

He cocked his head slightly, as if considering her words. "Well, I'm glad you think so, and I'd like to keep it that way."

After dinner they discussed their plans for the next day. "Are you sure you are up to it?" Sherlock asked her in a solicitous tone, as they perched once more on the bed.

Molly bit her lip and twirled her hair around her finger thoughtfully, as she contemplated his question seriously. "If I have trouble again with my ankles, I guess we'll have to forget any more sight-seeing. Let's try once more."

Sherlock pressed his lips together, then blew out a slow breath. "Alright then, if you're sure. What on the list would you most like to see, in case we have to cut short the rest of our sight-seeing?"

Molly looked at the list thoughtfully, running a finger down it, of things they wanted to see. "I think the Getty Center," she said at last, chewing on a nail. "I'd love to look at the paintings and sculptures."

"Getty Center it is, which opens at ten," he agreed with a short nod, after checking the details on his phone. Then he darted a glance at her and lifted an eyebrow slightly, after looking at more information about the Getty Center. "Looks like there's a Ferris wheel in Santa Monica too, at the pier," he commented slyly, and Molly knew he was thinking about the time they had gone on The Eye in London. A lovely amount of kissing had ensued.

"I'd love to ride a Ferris wheel here with you," enthused Molly, giving Sherlock a sideways look and moistening her lips a little. "But you'd have to promise to kiss me while we are on it."

"Okay, while we are on the Ferris wheel, I will promise to kiss you. No problem." His lips twitched as he gave her a sly look.

Molly swatted at him playfully, "You know what I mean, honey, you have to kiss me _when_ we are on it."

"But of course, my sweet, why didn't you say that before?" He grinned cheekily, and this time was rewarded with an attempted swat of his bum. He gave her a mock glare and returned to searching some more on his phone.

"What are you looking for?" she asked curiously, watching the way he squinted as his thumbs flew over the tiny keyboard. _That's what happens when you leave your reading glasses at home,_ she thought with an inner smile.

"Fish and chip shop," Sherlock responded, with a quick smile in her direction, before returning his gaze to the screen. "Ah, here's one, between Santa Monica and LA. We can go there for dinner, what do you think?"

Molly shook her head and offered him a wide smile. "I think you miss your chips."

"I do. These French fries are not the same." He put on a woebegone expression that made Molly laugh, then added, "I hope the chips at this place taste somewhat like ours, or I shall go into withdrawal from lack of proper chip nourishment."

"Guess we'll find out." _Honestly, Sherlock was such a drama queen at times_!

Sherlock wrote down the location of the fish and chip shop, so that he could tell the taxi driver where to go the following day.

The couple spent the evening in their room, watching some crap American telly. Yup, same sort of stuff as at home, thought Molly. Lots of reality tv, although they did manage to catch an episode of Big Bang Theory which was, of course, ahead of the London airing schedule.

Finally, they took a shower together, scrubbing each other's backs and washing each other's hair. Showering together was always quite pleasurable and usually ended up with them making love during or after it. This time was no exception.

Molly smiled contentedly up at her husband afterwards. "You look after me and love me so well, Sherlock," she murmured drowsily, accepting his sweet goodnight kiss before falling asleep in the arms of the man she loved.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Sorry for the long hiatus on this story. I have been working on finishing publication of my _A Journey to Love, Faith and Marriage_ story. The last two chapters of Molly's dream will be the next I work on publishing, because they are mentioned here.

I must admit, I felt rather disinclined in continuing this particular story due to the apparent lack of interest or response from readers. If you read this and enjoy it, please show your support and leave me a review about it. Long or short, I don't mind, I just want to know that people care enough to leave a note. Guest reviews also welcome. I will probably not attempt doing both M and T-rated versions of a story in the future, because the T-rated get few responses anyway. Do you enjoy reading stories about my Sherlock and Molly's married life, following their journey further, as it were?

One good thing about leaving the story alone for so long however, is that my recent improvements as a writer have caused me to make several revisions in order to give the story better imagery. So this chapter should reflect that improvement.

I do have ongoing tendonitis issues which give me chronic pain in my arms and make it difficult for me to continue publishing at times. A little encouragement goes a long way in helping me set aside the pain to continue my work here.

One extra note - the dream Sherlock refers to, where he was "competing" with himself as a prince is in my period romance _The Princess and the Scholar._


	6. A Day of Fun

When Sherlock woke, it was to find Molly already out of the bed, putting her hair in a ponytail.

"What are you doing, love?" he asked curiously, sitting up in the bed.

She glanced over at him, straightening her ponytail. "Well, I thought we'd go to the Getty Center after lunch, and the Ferris wheel, so we can have fish and chips for dinner like you suggested."

"And what do you propose we do this morning?" Sherlock raised a questioning brow.

"I don't know about you," she said pertly, "but I'm going to take advantage of the hotel pool again, after breakfast."

"Are you saying you don't want me to come with you?" He pouted and folded his arms over his chest.

"That depends." She tossed her head, swishing her ponytail. "There might be more people around earlier in the day, not that I have any idea. Do you think you can keep yourself under control?"

"That's like me asking you if you can keep from being sexy," he responded with a lascivious grin.

"I'm serious, Sherlock." She put her hands on her hips and gave him _that_ look. "What if, you know- _that_ happens again?"

"You mean what if I get turned on again?" he supplied helpfully, giving her a look of his own that made her blush quite satisfyingly.

"Yes, that." Despite her embarrassment, which really she had no right to feel - after all, _he_ was the one who would be the subject of any awkward situations, her lips twitched slightly in amusement.

Sherlock thought for a moment. "Well, instead of just heading down there in your swimming costume and my trunks, we could use the robes from our bathroom," he suggested, thinking he was being rather clever.

"Well, I suppose so," she said grudgingly, nevertheless stepping closer to the bed and giving him a seductive look that belied her words. She was going to tempt him anyway.

They headed downstairs soon afterwards for breakfast. This time, Sherlock ate a little more, seeing as he had given almost half of his dinner the previous evening to his wife. She still exceeded his portion however, and he wondered where she was putting it all.

Back in their suite, they changed into their swimming costumes, put on the robes and went back downstairs to the pool.

There were a couple of families with small children in the pool, as well as two watchful lifeguards on duty, and Sherlock felt a little piqued. He'd have to behave himself, after all. That meant no getting handsy with his wife. She was just too tempting, extraordinarily so, and for some reason, her pregnant body made her even more attractive, probably because he knew they had made the child within her, and he found it astonishing the way her body had expanded to accommodate their future blessing.

There were some hotel provided beach balls next to the pool, obviously to be used by the guests, so Sherlock decided he and Molly might as well toss the ball to each other. _That way I will be forced to keep my distance,_ he told himself silently. It wasn't long before another, somewhat younger couple came into the pool. They seemed to be interested in what Sherlock and Molly were doing, so his wife asked if they wanted to toss the ball to each other as teams.

The families with young children were at the shallow end of the pool, so Sherlock and Molly went to one side of the middle section of the pool and the other couple went to the other side. It was actually rather fun. They didn't even find out the names of the other couple, although by their accents and occasional words in a foreign language, Sherlock determined they were from Sweden. They four of them frolicked about for about an hour. Sherlock, of course, with his superior height and less girth to cart around his middle, fielded most of the balls, while Molly tackled the shots closer to the centre of the pool.

People came and went and finally, Molly said she had had enough, tossing the ball to the other couple who were still content to play with each other.

Molly's face was flushed from the exercise, but she was smiling brightly as they left the pool area with towels wrapped around their middles. Well, Molly's was really tucked more below her breasts and above her abdomen. They both wore their robes unbelted as well.

"Well, that was fun," she grinned, as they stood in the lift, waiting for the doors to open on their floor.

"It was fun, I have to agree," he told her, loving the way she was smiling and the light in her eyes.

Once in their hotel suite, he suggested, "Should we take a shower and wash the chlorine out of our hair and off our bodies?"

"Are you planning on seducing me afterwards?" she asked warily, looking at him from beneath her eyelashes.

He slid an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "Possibly." That upgraded to a _definitely_ as soon as they stepped in the shower spray and he saw his wife tilting her head back under the spray, to wet it before washing her hair. _She has such a swan-like neck,_ he thought, feeling the blood pumping in his veins as it always did, as he watched the water running in rivulets down her perfect body, that lovely belly where their baby was growing more each day, and that belly button he could swear was now completely pushed out.

"Can I help you wash your hair?" he offered, sliding carefully so he stood behind her instead of in front of her, and helping her remove her hair from its ponytail.

"I guess so." He knew she liked it when he washed her hair, because he always gave her a nice scalp massage as he did so. He lathered up her hair, trying not to tangle it in the process. The hotel provided shampoo was a 2-in-1 so there was no need for conditioner. She reciprocated, washing his hair. Some minutes later they were both clean.

"You know," Sherlock told Molly, as he faced her and caressed her shoulder, "I could brush your hair and braid it for you once we are out of the shower."

"That would be lovely," she said, fidgeting slightly in a rather tantalizing manner.

He added silkily, "Of course, by the time we get out of the shower and make love, it will be a bit more difficult to do that, because by that time your hair will be almost dry." He reached his other hand so he held both her shoulders and bent forward to kiss her neck, displacing the spray somewhat.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked coyly, trembling a little. Kissing Molly's neck always had that effect on her.

"Don't play the innocent with me, my lovely wife." His hands moved down to cup her rounded breasts. He thought perhaps this was the most enjoyable thing about Molly's pregnancy. She had increased two full cup sizes and he could no longer keep them contained within his hands.

Following a most satisfying time of loving one another, the spray continued to wash over them, the water now cooling to their heated bodies, until their breathing returned to normal and they were able to clean themselves once more before exiting the shower and wrapping themselves in fluffy towels.

True to his word, Sherlock brushed and braided Molly's hair, taking care to hold the hair near the root as he brushed, so it wouldn't pull at her scalp.

Then he kissed each of his wife's shoulders, before wrapping his arms around her, just under her breasts, over her ever-increasing abdomen. "Should we get dressed and head to the Getty Center now, and eat lunch there?" he asked Molly.

That sounds good," she agreed, and soon after getting dressed, they were on their way.

Almost as soon as they arrived at the Getty Center, Sherlock realized it had been a mistake. There was simply too much walking involved, going from place to place in the museum. Molly's ankles began to swell again within a half hour of walking around, looking at the sculptures and paintings.

"That's it, Molly, we're done here," he told her emphatically, taking her hand to lead her to the exit.

"But Sherlock, we've barely seen anything," she protested, biting her lip in consternation.

"Sweetheart, your feet are swollen already," he pointed out, indicating those poor distended appendages. "Don't they hurt?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, knowing what her answer would be.

She looked down at them and winced. "A little."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and squeezed her hand. "Look, I'll make you a deal. If we leave here now, we can go to the Santa Monica Pier and ride the Ferris Wheel twice. At least there you don't have to walk around as much."

Molly sighed, then brightened a little. "Fine. The Ferris wheel was what I wanted to ride on most, anyway. Apart from the Eye, I've never been on a full-sized one, just the ones at funfairs."

"Let's go, then." He dropped her hand and held his arm out for her, thinking she could rest some of her weight against him to ease the ache of her feet. She smiled and accepted the gesture gratefully, and he could tell by the way she leaned against him that her feet were indeed causing her considerable trouble.

He hailed a cab and they made their way to the Santa Monica Pier. Even before they arrived, they could see the big Ferris wheel, and he could sense Molly's excitement about going on it by the way she squeezed his hand in the cab.

They exited the taxi and made their way to the Ferris wheel. The Ferris wheel was part of a bigger amusement park, but the rides were fortunately priced individually. There wasn't a big line of people, but the attendant had them share a carriage with someone else, which was very disappointing to Molly. Sherlock knew she was thinking about the kiss he had promised to give her.

"Don't worry, love," he whispered. "I'll slip the attendant a few extra dollars next time so we can have a carriage to ourselves, okay?"

Molly smiled at him, with complete confidence in his ability. "Okay."

"So, this time around, let's enjoy the view," he added, raising a hand to her cheek briefly.

The view was lovely from so high up, and Sherlock was glad he had decided they could ride the Ferris wheel twice.

They alighted and got back into line. This time when they reached the front, Sherlock spoke softly to the attendant. "Could my wife and I have a carriage to ourselves, please? We are visiting from London and she is anxious to just enjoy the view without other company. I'd be happy to pay extra." He slid a glance at Molly, who was standing there with her hands resting on her abdomen.

The man started to say, "We don't allow-" and then he suddenly stopped and peered closer at both Sherlock and Molly, before returning his attention to the former. "Hey, aren't you the detective from that talk show the other night? Sherlock Holmes?" He seemed quite impressed.

Sherlock gave him a wink. "Yes, but please, I'd rather people not know my identity if possible. My wife and I are just trying to have a nice holiday while we are here." _Might as well take advantage of my fame, if it will get Molly what she wants,_ he thought silently.

The man pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, indicating for the two couples behind Sherlock and Molly to go on the ride. "If I can have your autograph, I'll let you have a carriage to yourselves for free." He grinned broadly.

"Fine." Sherlock grabbed the paper, and a pen the man had pulled from his shirt pocket, signing his name with a flourish.

"Thanks," the attendant said with a big grin, pocketing the autograph, then motioning the couple to the next vacant carriage that had just been emptied.

Sherlock and Molly got in and sat across from one another, because they found the balance was off when they sat together, much to Sherlock's disappointment. "Probably why they usually put more than two in a carriage," he muttered, in an irritated tone.

Molly tried to reach towards him but her belly made it difficult, so Sherlock leaned forward as far as possible from his side, to hold her hands. The Ferris wheel moved slowly as the new passengers were added, while others got off.

Once they were almost at the top, Sherlock asked, stroking Molly's hands and leaning so he was almost off his seat. "Ready for your kiss?"

Molly nodded happily, shuffling forward as much as possible too, and as their carriage reached the top, he managed to slide one arm around her, holding the centre pole for support, then kissed her passionately.

Molly sighed contentedly and leaned into his embrace, putting a hand around his waist as her other one also held the pole to steady herself, and they continued to kiss during the slow descent. Once the carriages were filled with new occupants, the Ferris wheel turned faster, making several revolutions, before it slowed to let the passengers off.

As they rode, Sherlock ignored everything around them and continued to kiss Molly, enjoying the feeling of the breeze ruffling his hair.

It was with some reluctance he withdrew from her as they got close to the bottom, and they were soon off the ride.

As they left the Ferris wheel behind, he asked Molly. "So, was riding the Ferris wheel what you wanted it to be?"

She looked up at him with a sweet smile. "It was lovely, despite having to reach across to each other. Anywhere you kiss me is lovely." Then she added, wincing slightly, "But can we leave now? My feet are killing me."

"Of course, sweetheart." He put an arm around her and kissed her temple. "Remember, we are stopping off first at that fish and chip shop. It's a bit early, but we can always get some kind of dessert later at the hotel."

They found a taxi and Sherlock brought up the address of the fish and chip shop on his phone, which he gave to the driver.

The fish and chip shop was okay, Sherlock thought. It definitely wasn't as good as Joe's Fish Shop, but it was better than the French fries most places seemed to serve here. He noted that Molly ate hungrily. Their baby was going to be huge, he thought with a little smirk.

Molly noticed it and asked as a frown creased her forehead, "What are you smirking about?"

"Just thinking about Victoria," he said honestly, and his wife was content to leave it at that.

Back at the hotel, Sherlock instructed Molly to take off her shoes as soon as they got to their suite. He got a flannel from the bathroom, then washed her feet, after which he massaged them gently. It didn't seem to help the swelling, but Molly still seemed to enjoy it. Then he propped her feet up on pillows as he had done the previous day.

Molly lay back on the bed and he joined her, after taking off his usual suit jacket and his trousers so they wouldn't get creased too badly. He gave her a look of concern. "Sweetheart, your feet are not getting any better. Much as I hate to say it, I think we need to curtail our sightseeing."

Molly sighed and reached to grasp his hand. "I know. You're right of course. I just hate to waste this opportunity to do stuff."

"We have done quite a lot," Sherlock pointed out. "The Walk of Fame, the zoo, some of the Getty Center and the Ferris wheel."

She bit her lip and asked hopefully, "If we stay here tomorrow, can we at least go to that nightclub tomorrow night and do our little re-creation of my dream?"

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "We can do that. How do you want to approach it?" He looked at her questioningly. This was her idea after all.

Molly pondered the question for a few moments. "Well, I thought I'd find an open seat at the bar that has a vacant seat next to it, and put my handbag on it. You can do what you like to introduce yourself to me and try to seduce me with your sexy ways." She peeked over at him to gauge his reaction.

Sherlock chuckled and moved so he could raise himself on an elbow and rub her belly gently. "Is that so? And are we going to go on the dance fooor so I can kiss you properly, like you described happened in your dream?"

She giggled. "Most definitely. You know I rather enjoy kissing in public."' Sherlock gave her a sultry look. He remembered that pub from Super Bowl Sunday, when she had been kissing him in the dark and informed him she had removed her knickers in the ladies toilets. They had rushed home right away after that so he could make love to her. _Definitely my naughty little angel._

"And after the kiss, I take you back to our hotel room to properly seduce you?" he asked, moving his hand beneath the maternity T-shirt she wore to stroke her bare skin. "Are you going to keep up the pretense that we have just met?"

Molly laughed and reached for his shirt buttons. "It would be fun to try, but the idea of you seducing a stranger who is seven months pregnant is rather risqué."

He tugged the T-shirt upwards and kissed her exposed belly before responding. "Let's see how it pans out, then."

Then he pulled the T-shirt back down, deciding she needed to rest those feet before he attempted any seduction. He did remove his shirt properly though as Molly had finished unbuttoning it.

Molly gave him a reproachful look when he did not take her in his arms as she had expected. This time he was the one making her wait and it gave him just a tiny sense of satisfaction after the way she had put him off the previous day.

Instead he slid an arm around her and told her, "Let's give your feet a chance to rest for a bit, shall we?"

Molly huffed, but snuggled into him anyway.

They spent the rest of the evening at the hotel, cuddling and watching telly, including the same late night talk show on which Sherlock had been a guest.

"Oh, look!" said Molly suddenly, leaning forward on the bed and dislodging Sherlock's arm from where it had been comfortably resting. "Adam Driver is going to be on."

"Adam who?" Sherlock furrowed his brow.

"You know, Kylo Ren from the latest Star Wars movies." She turned her head back towards him and cast him a sly glance. "He's rather hot."

Now that his arm was no longer resting on Molly's shoulders, Sherlock folded them in annoyance. "Molly, you are treading on thin ice, saying a man who has dark hair like me is hot. I might decide to get jealous."

Molly laughed and leaned back again, twisting her body towards him and kicking away the pillows that had been elevating her feet. "You know very well that you are the hottest man in the world. Your hair is curly and made for me to touch it." She reached to tweak one of those curls, then added playfully, "Besides, I can say a man is hot without being attracted to him. I'm just acknowledging he is good looking. But there will never be anyone who makes my heart beat faster, except for you, my love."

"There had better not be," he growled, trailing a possessive hand along her hip.. "If you really feel that way, you don't need to watch this Adam Driver fellow's interview, do you?"

Molly giggled, and with one motion criss-crossed her arms at the base of her T-shirt surprisingly well considering the size of her abdomen and pulled it over her head. "Oh, my jealous husband," she purred seductively as she gracefully reached behind herself to unclasp her own bra. "Fine, turn off the telly and I'll show you how much I love you and only you."

Sherlock needed no further invitation, snapping off the television with the remote, then tossing it aside and gathering his wife in his arms. "I'm waiting," he murmured, pulling off the now unfastened bra and drinking in the sight of her lovely curves that never failed to enthrall him. He then concentrated on removing the rest of her clothes.

And Molly demonstrated quite thoroughly as she helped him off with his own restrictive clothing that she was definitely not interested in anybody but him.

As they lay cuddled together, just before drifting off to sleep, Sherlock reflected that he was looking very much forward to the following night's nightclub scenario.

* * *

 **Author's note** : I do love the idea of kissing on a Ferris wheel, don't you? I hope you enjoyed the playful, sexy banter between Sherlock and Molly in this chapter. I had a lot of fun writing it.

If you want to know what happened on that Super Bowl Sunday, it can be found in my story, _Wanna watch the Super Bowl?_ If you haven't seen it, take a look, and, of course, I'd love to hear what you think about that one, as well as this chapter.


	7. The Nightclub Re-creation

**Author's note:** I am both sad and happy this is the final chapter for this story. Sad, because I love writing for my married Sherlock and Molly, and I enjoyed researching the details about Los Angeles. Happy, because of all my stories, this has had the least response from readers, so I guess married/fluffy Sherlolly is not something a lot of people are interested in. (I do know some people are interested only in the slow burn of them getting together, and lose interest after that, so fair enough.) I also discovered that the specific people I did the T-rating for, who I knew are more sensitive readers, weren't interested in this one anyway, so the extra work of doing two versions was not really worth the effort. Lesson learned. Those who do seem to enjoy all my stories are okay with my conservative M-rated stories.

If you have taken the time to read though, it would be nice to hear from readers to send this off with a bit of a bang, rather than a whimper. I could use a bit of encouragement right now, as I continue to struggle with the tendonitis that has been troubling me for several months now, but I am learning to live with chronic pain. It is humbling and helps me feel empathy for those of my friends/readers who also struggle with pain on a daily basis.

* * *

After a day of relaxing in the hotel room, and ordering room service for a quiet dinner, Molly was looking forward to the evening ahead. The idea of going into a nightclub and being "picked up" by her husband, as if they were strangers, was a little exciting. Role-playing at its best, she decided - on location role-playing.

"So, how are we going to do this, love?" asked Sherlock, watching as she put on makeup in front of the bathroom mirror. He had already shaved and was looking devastatingly handsome as he always did.

She spoke to his reflection in the mirror, even as she applied a hint of blush to her cheeks. "Well, you know how my dream went, but I don't want it to be exactly the same. The only things I want are for you to flirt with me, take me onto the dance floor and give me a kiss as hot as the one that was in my dream."

Sherlock put his arms around her from behind. "I wish I could crawl inside your head to see exactly what that kiss looked like so I could recreate it properly." He slid her hair aside to kiss her neck, and she hastily put down the blush brush. Thank heavens she had not been in the middle of applying mascara when he did that. She would probably have ended up jabbing herself in the eye with the mascara wand.

"You couldn't do that anyway. In my dream you pressed up really close against me. That isn't possible now that I'm seven months pregnant," she pointed out, rubbing the evidence of that fact.

"I shall just have to improvise then," he said, kissing her neck again, then nibbling delicately at her earlobe.

"Save it for the nightclub, honey," she scolded, a little breathlessly.

He released her with a pout and waited for her to finish getting ready, much to her relief. He was such a distracting man.

As they went downstairs to the hotel lobby, Molly issued more instructions. "Give me a couple minutes to order my drink. I'll look for a bar stool that has another empty next to it and put my handbag on there to save it, okay?"

"Alright," her husband agreed, as his lips twitched in amusement. "Do you want to go in by yourself or should we go in together, and then I go and hide away somewhere for a few minutes?"

Molly darted a glance up at him. "I'm in a scary, strange country. What do you think?"

Sherlock chuckled, and brushed a kiss to her temple. "We'll go in together and I'll disappear for a few minutes, then look for you at the bar, okay?"

"Perfect," she agreed, beaming at him.

They entered the nightclub, and Molly headed towards the rear of the nightclub where she could vaguely make out the bar. Off to the right was a dance floor, and Sherlock headed in that direction.

Molly found a bar stool that was empty along with one next to it on which she placed her handbag. She waited patiently for the bartender to see her, then ordered a Shirley Temple. At least it _looked_ like alcohol, she thought, looking around. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen so she began to sip her drink. She was just starting to get a little anxious when a rich baritone voice came from directly behind her.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

She turned to look at the handsome, curly-haired man who stood behind her. Then, taking her handbag off the stool, she gave him a seductive smile and purred, "It is now."

The sexy man slid onto the stool and beckoned the bartender. "Can I get you another drink?" he asked, after ordering a beer for himself.

"I'm fine right now, thanks so much," she answered coyly, reaching a hand up to casually flick aside her hair so her neck was exposed.

He gave her a smouldering look, raising his own hand to stroke a thumb delicately down her neck and her heart immediately began to pound at his delicate touch. "Sooooo," he drawled, "what's a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?"

she batted her eyelashes at him. "Just looking to have a little bit of fun, you know, a bit of flirtation, a bit of dancing."

The stranger accepted his beer, paid, and took a sip. "I hope you will allow me to be your companion for this evening," he said, giving another look which made her feel weak at the knees.

 _Such a charmer_ , she thought, loving the way his deep voice filled her ears and sent her senses spinning. "I, uh, yes, that sounds nice," she responded, rather breathlessly. Oh this was so much fun. "So, uh, what brings you here this evening?" she asked, taking a fortifying sip of her own drink.

"Oh, I'm on the prowl, darlin', and looking for someone special to share my evening with-" here, he paused and licked his lips in a way that caused her stomach to clench, then added silkily, "and possibly the whole night." He gave her yet another sexy look.

At this rate, she was not going to be able to keep up the charade too long. He had become extremely adept at flirting.

She gently put a hand on the "stranger's" leg. "I've always wondered what it would be like to be with a man who has black hair and lovely curls." She gave him a coquettish glance of her own.

Her companion drew in his breath. He placed his hand over top of hers. "I'm thinking, pretty lady, that I'd really like to take you onto the dance floor - what do you say?"

Molly swallowed, feeling as if her heart was about to beat out of her chest. Why was this so incredibly erotic? she wondered, a little dazedly. "I'd like that," she managed, allowing the handsome man to assist her off of her stool.

"Perhaps you should take your handbag," he suggested. "No telling what might happen to it otherwise." She reached over to take one last sip of her drink, knowing she would not be back to finish it, and he did the same with his beer.

Then she picked up her handbag, as he had suggested. Luckily it was a small one with a long strap that she was easily able to sling over her shoulder. She did so and the man took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor.

He positioned them to within the sightline of the DJ, and she noticed her husband make a signal to the man. The DJ nodded and Molly was curious as to what that was all about. Nevertheless, she started to sway with the music as she reached her hands up to tease Sherlock's curls with her fingers, while he rested his hands at her non-existent waist. Molly noticed a few sly glances being sent their way. Either pregnant women did not often hit the dance floor, or they recognised her famous husband. Either way, she didn't care, as long as nobody interrupted their little playacting.

The song finished and another one started. Molly caught her breath. Now she understood what was going on between the DJ and Sherlock. The song was Ed Sheeran's _The Shape of You_ , which was the song, as well as the conversation with Meena earlier on that day which had initially prompted that uni dream from months earlier.

Sherlock slid his hands up her body to settle them on her shoulders and leaned in closer. "So what do you think of this song, pretty little lady?" he asked in a very seductive voice that was fast making her lose her grip on reality.

His hands massaged her shoulders gently. "It's...it's very sexy," she managed.

"Not as sexy as you are," he responded, and then he lowered his lips to hers, moving his hands to frame her face as he did so.

The kiss he gave her was so sensuous, so seductive that her heart started pounding again, harder than it had earlier. She felt as if she were drowning in that kiss. A little dizzily, she thought it was every bit as hot as the dream one. Kissing this way on a dance floor, surrounded by other people doing similar activities or not, was extremely erotic.

She grasped her beloved's curls, feeling those silky strands, as the song continued to play. Her husband continued to kiss her for the entire song, and she was panting by the end of it.

Once the song ended, she said breathlessly, "Uh, handsome stranger, would you like to come up to my hotel room?" He was breathing hard as well, she noticed.

"I thought you'd never ask," he told her, sliding an arm around her middle and leading her off the dance floor. Molly was very glad she had her handbag with her so there was no need to return to the bar.

Keeping up the charade, as soon as they were out of the nightclub, Molly took her conquest by the hand. "My hotel is this way," she said, giving him a look that told him in no uncertain terms what she wanted when they got there.

She led him into the lobby, then the elevator. As they were the only ones in the elevator, Sherlock took the opportunity to kiss her again passionately, driving her wild with need for him.

On their floor, she pulled out the keycard and inserted it into the reader, unlocking it. No sooner were they inside than Sherlock began kissing her again, hungrily. "I really want you right now," her husband told her as he stroked her back, then moved his hands to caress her breasts through the fabric of the maternity dress.

"I want you too," she gasped, moving her own hands to feel his very sexy bum.

He propelled her towards the bed and was about to lay her down upon it when she stopped him. "Uh, I need to freshen up a bit," she told him, rather than saying she needed the loo. It was _sexier_ that way.

Her husband chuckled. "Of course, sexy lady, by all means, go and 'freshen up', if you must."

Molly dashed into the bathroom to empty her bladder. Afterwards, she cast a quick glance in the mirror. Yep, her lips had lost their lipstick, but were red enough from being thoroughly kissed. When she exited the bathroom, she gasped at the sight that met her eyes.

Her very naughty, very sexy husband had completely disrobed and was laying on the bed in all his naked glory. Oh my, but he was so hot, and it was obvious he was anxious to get things moving rather quickly between them.

Switching out of the charade, he told her, "I think you are wearing entirely too many clothes for my liking, Mrs. Holmes."

"You had better undress me then," she told him, moistening her lips and sliding onto the bed, then lifting her arms so he could divest her of her dress. He lost no time after that in helping her shed the rest of her clothes until she was laying next to him and he was kissing her again, caressing, then kissing her breasts as she moaned in pleasure.

His hands moved along her body, evoking those sensations that always drove her wild with desire for him.

And together they gloried in the ecstasy of passion that swirled about them, causing their hearts to beat as one.

In the aftermath of spent passion, Sherlock murmured, "Molly, I definitely think we need to do more of these lovely role-plays. I already have an idea."

Molly snuggled into his embrace. "And what kind of role would that be?"

"Well, you like _The Princess Bride,_ don't you?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

Her lips curved upwards. She had a feeling she knew what was coming. "You know I do."

"I thought next time you can dress as a princess and I'll be a pirate."

Molly giggled. Yup, she'd thought as much. "Well, we already have that pirate costume for you, but I'll need a princess one, and it might be best to wait until I get my figure back after the baby is born."

His hold on her tightened. "I suppose that would be more practical."

She peeped up at him. "Oh, and when the time comes, can I request that when you wear the pirate shirt, you keep it open so I can see your chest?"

"Possibly." He kissed her hair and rubbed her belly gently. "Oh, I think we woke her," he noted, as his lips quirked. "I think she is a bit cross."

Molly felt their baby moving within her, marvelling at that little life which, even now, was perfectly formed inside her and just needed to grow some more before being born. "She's not cross, she's just responding to the sound of her daddy's voice," she told him, with a soft, loving smile at her wonderful husband.

Soon they would be going home, back to London to await the birth of their child. Their holiday had been a lot of fun, but she was ready for their next big adventure - parenthood.

"I love you, Sherlock," she murmured sleepily, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"I love you too, Molly, my Molly," he responded, as his own lips kissed her hair.

Soon they were both asleep and dreaming of the next chapter in their lives together.

* * *

 **Author's note 2:** If you have yet to read _What if we Met at Uni? Molly's Dream_ , well, that has a very hot nightclub scene. If you've read both - which one do you think was hotter? I hope you enjoyed their little "re-creation", and the story in general.

If you do like the continuing story of my version Sherlock and Molly, please let me know. Don't forget, your follows/favourites will show your support for me as well, in that other people might see your profile, look at your favourites list, and decide to try out one of my stories as a result. I'd love to widen my circle of readers!


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